


Small Blessings

by Fourthlinewinger



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alex is a hockey player, Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nicky fights fires, Nicky is not a hockey player
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 11:19:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14377560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fourthlinewinger/pseuds/Fourthlinewinger
Summary: Nicky didn’t make the game.There was a reason, a good reason, a great reason, but Nicky still felt shitty when he let himself into the house a few hours before dawn. The dog didn’t come to meet him, and it was hard to see that as anything but a bad sign. He didn’t know if Alex had won, didn’t know if it would be another summer of ‘next years’ or if the series had been extended to one more game seven, and the uncertainty hung over him. He should check his phone. He went to find Alex, instead.





	Small Blessings

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Erin Katz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinKatz/pseuds/ErinKatz) for the fast beta job! You are very wonderful, my dear, and I really appreciate all your help :)

Nicke missed the game.

There was a reason, a good reason, a great reason, but Nicke still felt shitty when he let himself into the house a few hours before dawn. The house was so quiet that Nicke’s ears rang with the crackle and scream of burning plaster and concrete, and it seemed unbearably empty of life as he crept through the halls. The dog didn’t come to meet him. It was hard to see that as anything but a bad sign. Blake always made sure Nicke knew he was being watched. No matter what Alex said, his dog still wasn’t convinced Nicke was a good thing to keep around the house.

Nicke stopped in the kitchen for water to wash the taste of ash from his tongue, then in the laundry room to strip off the worst of his singed and smokey clothes. His skin still reeked of fire and chemicals, his hair was gritty with ash, and he needed to shower more than he wanted to sleep. He didn’t know if Alex had won, didn’t know if it would be another summer of ‘next years’ or if the series had been extended to one more game seven, and the uncertainty clung like another layer of dirt. He should check his phone. He went to find Alex, instead.

Flickering light and quiet voices echoed from the open door when Nicke finally made his way to their bedroom. For a moment, Nicke thought Alex had dragged one of his teammates home for some post-game company, and then he saw it was just the local weatherman informing the room that it would storm in the morning.

Alex was sleeping next to Blake on the bed, the blue light from the tv draining his skin of any color, leaving him pale and wan. He looked like he’d fallen asleep in the middle of changing out of his gameday suit, his shoes still on and his shirt hanging open. He had collapsed backward and was snoring with Blake stretched out by his hip. There was a sling on one arm, and enough bruising beneath his shirt that Nicke couldn’t find it cute. Blake glanced at Nicke when he stepped into the room, whining softly. He laid his head back on Alex’s stomach. 

Nicke sighed and turned the television off and the lights on. Alex stirred, eyes blinking slowly open before he saw Nicke and smiled.

“You back safe,” Alex said, pushing himself upright with his good arm. Blake whined again and Alex absently scratched his ears.

“It was just a fire,” Nicke said, leaning against the dresser. “What happened to your arm?”

Alex glanced down at his sling before stripping it off and testing his shoulder. “Just playoff hockey,” he said absently. “Gonna be fine.” His unbuttoned shirt slid down his shoulders to reveal more bruises.

Nicke hissed in sympathy and stepped forward to get a closer look. “Did you ice it?” Alex was always putting ice on his sore limbs after games.

“I know how to take care of bruises,” Alex said, looking amused. He let Nicke finish taking his shirt off. “How was fire?”

Nicke shrugged, gently touching the purple and red skin. It was hot and swollen, and he wondered what it was like to feel the ache of deep bruises and friction burns. “Not good,” he finally admitted, because he was working on letting Alex help with the bad days. “I would have rather watched your game.”

“Was a good game,” Alex agreed, and stroked Nicke’s face. “You save people?”

“A few,” Nicke said, closing his eyes. He opened them immediately, not wanting to see his nightmares any earlier than necessary. Alex was studying him carefully, like he could see the flames and cinders still haunting Nicke. “It took a while to clear the building. Some of them couldn’t get out.”

“You save some, that is still good,” Alex said. He put his good arm around Nicke’s shoulder and Nicke let himself be pulled onto the bed, straddling Alex’s lap and holding on tightly. Alex didn’t flinch, even though Nicke had to be hurting him.

Alex made Nicke think that getting hurt wasn’t that bad.

“I’ll try and come to the next game,” Nicke promised against Alex’s skin. The words felt rote, though he meant them every time.

“Gonna be in Pittsburgh,” Alex warned.

“I’ll wear your jersey,” Nicke decided.

Alex laughed and Nicke felt it take up residence in his chest, a glow of home and care that pushed the night’s horrors a little further away. Nicke’s eyes had fallen shut, and this time he didn’t need to keep them open. He felt Alex smoothing his hand over his hair.

“You need to shower, babe.”

Nicke grunted. He was aware. The bathroom was all the way across the room, though, and peace was easing into him. With his nose pressed into the bend of Alex’s neck, he couldn’t smell the smoke anymore: just sweat and aftershave. The shower would still be there in the morning, and the longer he spent awake, the faster morning was coming.

“Come on,” Alex said, and Nicke knew from the shift of his muscles that he was about to be lifted up.

Alex’s shoulder was hurt. Nicke opened his eyes and stood up, arching his back so his spine cracked and realigned. He looked down at Alex, still sitting on the bed and clearly torn between amusement at Nicke’s worry and unhappiness that Nicke was treating him delicately.

“You should sleep,” Nicke said, yawning. “I’ll be in bed soon.”

Alex caught the yawn, and then put his hands on Nicke’s hips to steer him back a few steps so he could stand. “I’ll come with you.”

Nicke took his hand. There was a part of him that wanted to refuse and wash the remains of the fire off alone. There was a part of him that shook with relief that Alex had offered, and he didn’t have to ask. He was too tired to parse it. It would be nice to have company. “It will be a cold shower.” He didn’t think he was ready to step back into heat.

“Better for bruises,” Alex said blythely, and followed Nicke into the bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat with me @ [fourthlinewinger](https://fourthlinewinger.tumblr.com)


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